


Gerard Way's guide on how to deal with a demonic infestation

by feux



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: (kind of), Alternate Universe - High School, Boarding School AU, Comedy, Fluffy, Halloween Special, M/M, Pining, frank's a good catholic boy, horror elements but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feux/pseuds/feux
Summary: Gerard tries to summon a demon in the middle of the school's chapel. The catch is: he doesn't really know if it worked.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

“It’s not gonna work. That’s all bullshit and we’re gonna end up expelled and Ray will have to go back and live with his grandma in the middle of nowhere and it’ll be your fault.”

Gerard considers himself a good friend and an even better brother. Usually, he’d listen to what Mikey had to say. Usually, he wouldn’t drag Ray out of bed in the middle of the night and force him to put his very shallow knowledge of Latin to use. Usually, Gerard Way wouldn’t try to summon a demon in the middle of the school’s chapel. There they were, though, sitting cross-legged in the cold stone floor, surrounded by papers and books and trying to set it all up only using the waxing moon outside and a few odd candles Gerard found in his dorm. Ray’s usually well-kept hair was a mess, Gerard was wearing pajama pants and an old Nirvana shirt that was more holes than anything else and Mikey was very pissed because he forgot his glasses. Everything in that cold September night seemed to be conspiring against them.

“Well, you know” Gerard sighs loudly and closes the heavy book in his hands. “’tis the season. The spooky one, I mean.”

Mikey was probably right; it probably wouldn’t work. Ray sucked at Latin and the candles were all the wrong colors and as good as an artist Gerard was, the pentagram he drew on the ground looked extremely shitty and lopsided. “And, also, demons aren’t real.” Ray completed, almost as if he was reading Gerard’s mind.

“It’s more about the aesthetics, anyway. Even  _ if  _ we can’t conjure anything…” Mikey muttered something like  _ which we won’t  _ under his breath, but Gerard ignored him. “Imagine Father Shelley’s face seeing this tomorrow. Priceless.”

“Then we don’t need to actually  _ do  _ the ritual, Gee, let’s just leave it here and go to bed.”

“Are you scared, Mikeyway? Is that the problem?” Gerard teases. 

The candlelight creates weird patterns in Mikey’s solemn face, and he kind of regrets dragging him into it. He knew his brother wasn’t scared of demons, but he  _ was  _ scared of being expelled, having to go back to Jersey, and never seeing Ray again. His life at the boarding school is great, he fits in and has a lot of liberty and a very cool best friend and everybody, from the teachers to the student body, loves him. Gerard is the malcontent, the outcast. He’s the one who wants the place to burn to the ground so he can dance on the ashes. And maybe it’d be better if he let Mikey out of this one.

It’s not that he would fit in anywhere else either, it’s just that it is a  _ catholic school,  _ with priests and nuns and everything else and Gerard is kind of a raging bisexual and bad at sports and honestly just against churches in general. He had it hard there, even if he kept his head down and didn’t talk to anyone, even if he maintained his grades on the top of the class and obeyed his teachers, even if he only ever talked to his little brother’s friends and never went in a locker room. It was like the building itself – a very old, 17th-century castle-like monstrosity. – hated him and conspired to make him miserable. That’s why he wanted so bad to try the ritual and get some payback, to corrupt that holy place, even if only a little.

He could explain it all to them and he knew they’d understand, but he felt like, if he did, something inside him would break and expose everything he wanted to hide, and honestly, it was too much vulnerability for a 17-year-old schoolboy to handle.

“It’ll just take a second, everything’s already set.” He said instead, lighting the last blood-red candle. “Okay, Ray, on the right, and Mikey on the left. Then, we just have to say the words.”

Mikey sighed and held his brother’s left hand, probably regretting being born a Way in the first place. Ray joined shortly after, taking a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “It’s just a line, and it’s really generic. Translates roughly to ‘ _ command them, bind them, bring them to me’  _ and we’re supposed to repeat it three times. Are you guys ready?”

Ray took Mikey’s left hand, and Gerard held onto his wrist so he could read from the paper properly. A light breeze ran through the place, making the candles flicker a little and sending a shiver up Gerard’s bare arms – maybe band t-shirts weren’t the right dress code to summon demons.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Ray sounded unsure, like he just realized exactly what he was doing. “ _ Attenrobendum eos, ad ligandum eos, potiter eos, coram me.” _

_ “Attenrobendum eos, ad ligandum eos, potiter eos, coram me.”  _ Mikey and Gerard repeated, and, as soon as they were done, the chapel’s doors swung wide open, letting the fall winds blow out the candles and scatter all of their papers through the place. They all just stood there, holding hands, too scared to dare to move, until Father Shelley’s old dog started barking towards the church.

“Okay,” Ray said, continuing to be the voice of reason. “Maybe now we run.”

And then they ran, like the devil himself was following them.

Gerard didn’t expect to see the pentagram on the altar at Mass the next day, but he did expect to sit there and listen to an exceptionally long sermon about demonic forces, the punishment for misbehavior, and Father Shelley’s empty threats of the fiery pits of hell or at least his very real threats of expulsion. Nothing like that happened, though, just the same old Roman Rite with vague allusions to some other transgressions that had nothing to do with Gerard’s evil deeds from the night before.

“Maybe it worked, after all,” Mikey suggested, muttering under his breath while the choir kids sang the psalms. “Maybe the demon whipped out all the ritual stuff before Father Shelley came this morning.” 

“Maybe he’s just setting a trap to get us,” Ray replied, not as quietly as he thought. “He’s cunning, old Shelley.”

“Maybe if the two of you don’t shut up we’ll all end expelled for a very different reason.” Gerard desperately needed for them to be quiet so he could think a little. They probably weren’t in trouble, or else Shelley would have them in their merry way before mass even begun – that’s usually what happens to serious transgressions. So, he either never saw the mess on the altar, or he just didn’t know who did it. Maybe one of the altar boys got there earlier and decided to clean it up so the Father wouldn’t see it, or maybe Mikey was right and they conjured some demon and  _ he  _ cleaned it up. In that case, maybe Gerard should find him and ask if he could do the same in his room. It was a mess since his roommate left, impossible to find anything.

Sunday’s were the worst, they all had to dress adequately and be in the chapel early and listen to what the priest had to say. Gerard could barely expect to last the two hour mass awake in ordinary circumstances, much less when sleep deprived from all the witchcraft from the night before. He just let his mind wander, letting his body go through the motions and only moving his lips when he heard the rest of the congregation speaking, as to not draw attention. He sometimes liked to imagine he was somewhere else, like on a cliff facing the sea, looking at the tides breaking against rocks; to be honest, he probably only pictured that because of some psalm. Everything to get out of the church, any stimulus was welcome. 

Now, instead of rocks, he was thinking about breakfast. They’d only eat after mass, and the eucharist always left a bitter taste in his mouth, making him long for a slice of toast with eggs and some very crispy bacon – that was affectionately baptized  _ miracle bacon  _ by Mikey’s friends because, by some divine intervention, was never burnt and always perfectly toasted. – and the biggest mug of coffee possible. Maybe there would even be some lemon muffins today, Gerard would like that very much.

Gerard didn’t bother with the  _ peace be with you  _ part, only saying it to Ray and Mikey, and only because they right beside him. He hated that part, and he hated that now Father Shelley would hold them there for fifteen minutes telling them stuff nobody cared and Gerard didn’t  _ work  _ without coffee and life was so unfair.

“ _ Dude,  _ look at the new guy,” Ray said, sticking his elbow into Gerard’s ribcage. “He has  _ piercings.” _

Gerard raised his eyes to the altar, and there he was: very ripped jeans, black hair almost hitting his shoulders, a  _ lip piercing,  _ and oh my God, dirty white Chuck Taylor's. Gerard could see the outline of a tattoo through his white shirt, and everything Father Shelley was saying just flew over his head, he was  _ hot.  _ And he was smiling mischievously and looking directly at him.

“My name is Frank Iero,” He said into the mic, sending shivers through Gerard’s arms. “and I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun.”


	2. rule number one: never let them in your safe spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very disappointed that in english the rooster's mass is just called the midnight mass, 2/10.

“I’m telling you guys, he appeared in the middle of the night, out of nowhere,” Pete says, stuffing his mouth with bacon like that isn’t the grossest thing possible. “Almost scared Father Shelley to death.”

Gerard’s face is starting to turn green, and Mikey is starting to worry about his brother’s mental state. He hadn’t touched his breakfast yet and kept looking over his shoulder, like something was coming to attack him. 

“For God’s sake, Pete, swallow your food before you speak. It’s making Gee sick.” 

“Or, you know, just don’t speak at all.” Ray’s plate is almost empty at this point – he’s generally unbothered by all the strange events that took place since their little séance last night. Which was probably damming proof that he was the only one with a brain cell in the group. “It’s all gossip and probably not true anyway.”

Pete Wentz was most definitely one to spread unfounded rumors, and in ordinary circumstances, Gerard would take anything he said with a pinch of salt. But his head was too far up the demon rabbit hole for him to listen to any kind of reason. If the guy got there around about the time they were in the chapel, there was absolutely no way Father Shelley didn’t realize something was going on there. And, if he got there a bit after they ran, how no one other than Pete Wentz heard him? And where did he _sleep?_ And how much his parents paid the bishop for him to accept a boy with tattoos and painted nails into his very conservative catholic school? There were too many questions roaming the less reasonable parts of Gerard’s mind, and the worst is the reasonable ones were probably running around and screaming _hot hot hot hot_ because. Oh my God, he was hot.

“I’m telling the truth! It started raining and all just as he got here!” there was indignation in his voice, behind all of the bread and bacon. “T’was mad creepy.”

“But it didn’t rain last night…” Gerard says, not really thinking. “It was just the wind.”

“I’m just saying, that guy? Bad vibes.” Pete shrugs, his plate is empty, and he’s starting to get up. “Also, Father Shelley asked me to tell you to meet him in his office when you’re done.”

Okay, maybe Gerard _is_ fucked, and the only reason Father Shelley didn’t mention anything was to catch him later and to not alarm the new guy. He’s going to take the blame for it all, obviously, so his brother can keep going to school there and only half-eating his sandwiches like he’s supposed to. Maybe Gerard can go live the rest of the school year with his grandma, that’d be cool, and probably more eventful than anything in this godforsaken place. 

“I’ll be out with Pete and Patrick, okay? You can call me if you need anything. And Ray’s gonna be on our dorm too, he’ll help you with whatever.” Mikey’s obviously sorry to let Gerard deal with old Shelley alone, but probably not enough to miss out on his weekly trip to the movies with the guy he’s in love with. And, honestly, Gerard doesn’t have enough energy to get mad. Also, he dug his own grave.

So, he gets his sorry ass up, dumps his uneaten plate of eggs in the trash, and with one last sorrowful look to Ray, starts making his way towards the office. 

The thing is, he hates the school, and on a bigger scale, catholicism, but he’ll kind of miss it. More like the aesthetic of it all, and less like the blatant homophobia and the nuns telling him to sleep at eight. Gerard’s an artist, he can appreciate the architecture and the pretty stained glass that only old-timey catholic buildings like that had, things he won’t find as easy in Jersey. He takes his time appreciating the stone walls and the pretty statues, remembering how excited he was when they started going there — Gerard grew up with Harry Potter, and going to a boarding school that looked like a castle was honestly very magic for his thirteen-year-old self. It wore off really quickly once he started cultivating a personality of his own, but some of it was still there.

And there was the thing with that Frank guy, too. As much as his brain screamed he was a monster from hell and Gee was better off being as far away from the thing he conjured as possible, he also wanted to know what was up with him. He was cute and a little bit of mischief would be healthy for this place, and something told Gerard that Frank was just the one to bring it.

Father Shelley’s office was the second to last one in the administrative part of the building, a big, dark oak door with an honest to God knocker, just like the ones in haunted houses. In front of it was Mother superior’s office, and in the middle of them, the bishop’s. All of them the same dark, heavy wood, none of them with the golden knockers.

It was rare for the students to see the bishop, he only appeared once or twice a year for special celebrations like Christmas, when the whole town came to the school for the midnight mass. Gerard didn’t know exactly what was his job there, since Sister King took care of most administrative responsibilities and Father Shelley was more than happy to deal with the student’s discipline, but he was there, a constant threat. Gerard’s roommate was actually asked to his office right before he was expelled, and the thought of the old man filled Gerard with rage since then. 

He knocked on the door with his knuckles, choosing to ignore the dumb thing hanging there as an act of defiance. If he was to be kicked out, he wouldn’t go conforming. 

“Come in!” Shelley’s high-pitched voice called. Gerard could smell muffins coming from inside the office, and suddenly regretted not eating his breakfast. Maybe the priest will let him take one home as a goodbye gift. 

The office is well lit, with big glass windows that look over the gardens where the students spend most of their free time. Shelley likes to sit there and look down when they’re having lunch, with his ugly binoculars, ready to catch anyone doing anything he considers improper. He’s sitting behind the wooden table, that is currently stuffed with food, and there’s gunk on the side of his mouth. Sitting in front of him, with his back to Gerard, there’s a boy.

There is a moment of instant relief when Gerard realizes he’s probably not expelled, because the new boy is there and Father Shelley would rather die than tarnish the school’s reputation in front of new students. But it lasts for only a second before Gerard remembers _who_ the new boy is and now, he’s all different shades of fucked up. And it’s kind of worse.

“Oh, here you are! Gerard, this is Mr. Iero, your new roommate. I was hoping you could give him a tour of the school and help him get familiarized with the building. God knows how much of a labyrinth this place can be.” He says, and Frank gets up really close to Gerard, and all he can register right now is how _small_ he is.

“You’re tiny.” Gerard says, again, not thinking. Kind of a normal thing nowadays.

“Yeah, but I can cause some trouble.” He answers, smirking.

Gerard is ready to die right then and there.

“Okay, then, the dorms are all upstairs. It’s an attempt to keep everyone in bed after curfew but it never works. We share a bathroom with the room beside us, it’s just my brother and Ray though, they’re cool.” Gerard spills, like a broken faucet, too embarrassed to stop talking and face what he just did. 

Frank’s walking just behind him, his short legs doing an awesome job with following Gerard’s quick steps. He’s mostly silent, only giving him small laughs and witty remarks here and there, which is honestly worse than if he just acknowledged the weirdness in Gerard like everyone else. I mean, how _weird_ do you have to be to not find Gerard Way weird? It was kind of scary.

They were just back from the cafeteria where Gerard introduced him to one of their teachers and to the lunch ladies who collectively seemed to adore him, despite his lip ring and painted nails and scorpion tattoo on the neck — the dude had a scorpion on his neck, how cool was that? —, and now they were around the classrooms. Father Shelley found a way to squeeze Frank in most of Gerard’s classes, to help him adapt, in his words, so he didn’t bother trying to explain which classroom was which and just generally rambled about how boring religion class was and how tired he was from reading Romeo and Juliet for English.

“Yeah, dude, Shakespeare’s overrated.” Frank agreed, still smirking. It was driving Gerard crazy. “I’m more of a Wilde guy myself. Don’t really like plays.”

“Well, then, get ready. Mr. Austen _loves_ plays. It’s starting to get ridiculous.” 

“I’m sure I’ll manage. So, is there a place where I can… y’know…” He gestures vaguely with his hands, and it takes Gerard a second to understand. He smokes, of course, Gerard can smell it very clearly. It’s weirdly comforting — his grandma smoked, and also his old roommate, and his mom, and Mikey, occasionally. It’s just different in Frank, like, not in the same way a perfume changes depending on the natural smell of someone’s skin, but more like the smoke itself is different.

“Yeah, you can smoke in the bathroom with the shower on or in the garden at night, if you’re quiet enough. There’s also a cave, kind of, it’s very shallow, where we go to have small parties sometimes, it’s safe, but kind of far.” He’s smiling at Gerard, which weirds him out. “But you should ask Mikey, he can help you more.”

“Nah, it’s good.” Frank answers. “Shall we go to our room now?”

And then, it dawns on him. The horrible realization. He’ll have to _sleep_ with Frank. And share bathrooms and the wardrobe and _oh my God,_ Frank’s gonna see him in his pajamas. 

It’s honestly a fate worse than damnation.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm bea and here I am again writing in a language I never formally studied in a desperate attempt to run away from my own thoughts! yay!
> 
> this is technically a Halloween special, ill try my best to update it every Friday till the 30th and then post the epilogue on the 31st, so maybe 5 or 6 chapters.
> 
> Id like to apologize to anyone reading for any mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't really know how to translate church jargon even though I was raised catholic. also, I'm not doing any research into anything, so I'm sorry if any of the things I describe differ from the catholic rites on other countries or if I'm misrepresenting boarding schools. I'm doing this just for fun.
> 
> also, the Latin words from the ritual were lifted straight from supernatural, and for that I'm not sorry.
> 
> I hope this is as fun to read as it is to write!


End file.
